Heaven's Never Real
by kennethclayden
Summary: Capaldi's Doctor goes to church...what could go wrong?
1. Chapter 1

His stare was like looking into the sun: you couldn't look for more than a moment without having to look away again. The man who always runs, and never stays; the man who works, and never plays. The Doctor - with his attack eyebrows, accent stronger than musky cheese. The good man with a hidden evil in his heart...

He paraded around the TARDIS alone, and for an older gentleman, he was agile. He swerved around the console like a crazy man, his coattails floating after him as he moved; tapping buttons on the shiny, metal console and pulling levers; the lights above him shimmering as they circled. He stood upright suddenly, as though admiring himself in front of an invisible mirror. He shuffled his eyebrows, their dangerousness not subsiding; and then he smiled...and immediately regretted it. _Don't do that again_, he said to himself;_ don't even dare_. Then he chuckled like a madman and continued working away...

She was teaching English; specifically: Shakespeare; and as expected, no one was listening. "Alright you lot," she said, grabbing a collection of thin, glossy books from the front. "Now I know you hate Shakespeare; but it gets worse," she joked. "These are your poetry anthologies. Go nuts." She said. They laughed. She sat on her desk and looked out to her class. "But seriously, guys. I know you don't wanna learn about Shakespeare and Browning, and other poets. But this is school, so if you try hard, you might just get something out of it." At this one of the pupils whispered something around. "What's that, William?" She asked.

"Well, Miss Oswald," he said. "I was just wondering, if, what we get out of it- he paused. "Are we as likely to use it, as we would Pythagoras and Trig?" She laughed.

"Probably not, William," she told him. Shock filled the classroom. "I'm just being honest, guys- then she stopped and turned to the board. "It's like this," she said, writing on the board; a Venn diagram. In the first circle she titled: stuff you need for life; and in the second: stuff you need for school. Then where the two circles overlapped, she wrote: stuff you get from school that you need for life. "Now you know that you guys do Religious Studies, correct?" The class nodded. "Well why do you do that?"

"Because the school wants to bore the fuck outta us?" Another male voice replied. Everyone laughed.

"Language," she said. "And no." She turned back to the class. "You do that to be more informed," she said. "To make you a more well-rounded, decent human being - and literature, whether you like it or not - can make you a better person. So yes, you may not like learning about in-depth analysis' of Shakespeare's work. But stick with it, and who knows, you just might get something out of it - more than a grade...

He ran around the console a third and final time. A ticking sound had made itself known to him, and this third time, was made use of by The Doctor; to find the source. He waved his sonic around and then replaced it in his jacket, suddenly thinking it a bad idea. "Well, last time," he said. "Sparks." Then he closed his eyes, allowing all sounds; except that; to be hidden from him. And then with his eyes closed, he followed his ears to the source. It was an old alarm clock, long since broken; yet still ticking. "What are you trying to tell me?" He asked of the TARDIS, who of course, could not reply. He replaced the clock in the box, failing to see that the clock was counting down...

School was over now, and Clara was just leaving the school gates. To her surprise, just beyond them, The Doctor was waiting for her. "Is this what you call soon?" She asked, sounding slightly angry. He seemed puzzled at this tiny flame. "Oh." She said, suddenly realising; and then she explained. "It's been over four months," she said. The Doctor nodded and made an 'aah' sound. "So, are we going somewhere?" She asked him. He shook his head, and made a contemplating face with his mouth; as though he had decided to take her somewhere, and then in the same instant, decided against it. "Yes? No?" She said. He was in a daydream. "Are you okay?" She shook him.

"Yes, what - oh I'm fine." He said. "I got carried away. Sorry." He started staring again. "So how was your date? Did you try hard?" Then, before she could answer, he said: "Why of course, and you still are," he took her arm in his. "The skirt is a little bit too short though. Don't you agree?" She shook her head and for a moment, she felt sad. He never saw his offending words, and just continued on.

"So why ya here then?" She asked. They stopped and he turned to her.

"Pieces." He said. "Pieces of you, are coming together in my mind; the impossible girl, an all." She laughed at his craziness, but he wasn't finished. "The Dalek-killer Dalek, reminded me of you." She asked him why and then he remembered that it was her mangled future; and the risks that would arise as a result of him telling her. "Just your fighting spirit." He lied. "But, that's not actually why I'm here." He said. "Wanna go pray?" He asked. She laughed-

"Wait," she said. "You were being serious." The Doctor nodded. "Like a church?" He nodded again. "Like a proper church - no nakedness?"

"What kind of church do you- he paused, and then he remembered. "Ah yes," he said. "No nudes, Clara. No nudes." Then she nodded and followed him onward.


	2. Chapter 2

The church was cold and lonely at night, and there were few candles still lit from an earlier church service. The Doctor strode in slowly and dramatically, calling out that he was 'home'. Clara watched on, before telling him to quieten down - that they'd get into trouble. "Ah, trouble." He said. He had a breath of his former self in him still, she noted. She couldn't help but laugh at him. He stormed down the pews, hands outstretched either side of him; the wood bashing against his aged hands. He stopped dead and Clara's laugh stopped with him. He swivelled on his heels and looked around, arching his head back to see the ceiling. "Such beauty placed into a set of lies," he said. "Heaven isn't real, Clara. It's a universal disease: the belief in heaven. It fills a hole in the mind, where existential problems would surely rise and feast on your every anxiety." He told her. "Sure, the artwork's nice; and the handwritten books were nice. But now the idea of heaven; and all the damning subplots it brings with it; just annoys the hell out of me. I was there," he said. "At the beginning of your planet. And believe me, Clara Oswald. There was absolutely no, I repeat, no; god or god-like presence there." This scared Clara and she quivered. "Are you cold?" She shook her head-

"Scared." She replied. His eyes widened and a grin formed.

"That's good," he said. "The universe is a scary place, it's filled with danger; and fright at every turn." He said. She nodded and he shook his head at her. "I'm not talking about Daleks, Clara. Or Cybermen. I'm talking about the creation of worlds, the creation of life; among other things." He stopped and waited for silence. "Bang!" He yelled, Clara shivered. "That scares you?" She nodded-

"Just a lil' bit," she said. "It was kinda loud." He laughed at her.

"Loud?" He said, and she nodded again. "You wanna hear loud?" He placed her hands on either side of her forehead and closed his eyes. In a second, the quiet church became more than that. She heard the ticking of a clock; though no clock was to be seen; she heard the grinding of gears and a scurrying rat, who knows where; then she heard crying, and suffering; and pain like she'd never heard or felt before. He released her and she pulled away. "I'm sorry," he said, adjusting his jacket. "I forget about that bit."

"What was the last bit I heard - felt?" She asked.

"I don't know," he told her. "I've felt it since my birth, grown immune to it, and fell prey to it a thousand times since. The Time Lords would say, even in their 'all-knowing' wisdom; that it was the suffering of the dead." He adjusted his eyes with a blink and then ran down the pews again.

"Is this all you brought me here for?" She asked. "Just a childish runabout and a creepy story?" He looked horrified.

"No, Clara. You're going back into the wrong mentality. It came to me when I noticed you were getting old last time," he told her. She was about to butt in when he shushed her and continued. "I've lost many people, Clara. Not just on Galifrey, but across the broad and narrow thing that is time and space." He said. "And every time someone dies, that's another voice of suffering I have to deal with; and I won't have you- A single tear formed in his eye, though his expression was pure anger. "I want to find out if Heaven is real," he said. "Make a believer out of me, so that when you're gone- he couldn't finish his sentence. She moved up to him and told him it was okay. Then she led him out of the church, along the road and back to the TARDIS.

She set him down on the steps on the reverse side of the console room. He told her he was sorry, that death was a sickness that ate away at his conscious and then, he just stopped whining; and jumped up. "That's it." He said. Clara's face became screwed up as she became ever-more confused. "Death is a sickness, just as life is," he said. "Even those who lose their complete body - like in disintegration - the life of that person can't just turn disappear. It's like the Gelth," By this point, it seemed to Clara, that The Doctor was just spewing facts to keep them present in his mind. "That's it!" He said. "The Gelth is what happens when bodies are completely washed away, in the time war. But they weren't dead."

"Doctor do you need to sit down?" He stopped again and hung his head.

"I'm getting old, Clara. Old and senile. The worst part is, I can feel it happening. 2000 years alive, and I'm not even middle-aged yet." He joked. "I guess I chose this body as a reminder. But then, why would it be a bouncy body? I mean, if it were a truly reflective period-

"Doctor, breathe." She said. "Are you sure something didn't go wrong with your regeneration?"

"I don't know, Clara. There are moments, shining moments where I feel youthful, despite this form. But then there are other times where I feel like, perhaps I should sit down; and watch another planet burn; and people die." He quietened down again, but once more, it was shortlived. "The Gelth, maybe they can help us."

Then he flicked switches, and after a rough engine start; which threw Clara to the floor; they were off to find the Gelth...


	3. Chapter 3

There was no concept of time in the TARDIS, Clara noted; as had her predecessors. But for The Doctor, he knew that they'd been in the TARDIS approximately 45 Earth minutes. They were travelling through Space and not time, searching for any sign of the Gelth. He began to wonder if, when he'd been travelling alone in his Tenth form; had he gotten rid of all of them. On the console, he turned the dial and the lighting of the console room changed to red. "What's this doing?" Clara asked.

"Searching for a specific race, it goes red until it finds anything. Plus I like the colour of the room like this," he said, before re-evaluating his decision.

It eventually returned to white in the console room, and The Doctor was like a Roman or a Greek with his chariot, yelling it at it to 'go forward'. Eventually it fell with a thud on whatever thing it had landed on, The Doctor didn't know; and he wasn't checking either. "Surprises," he told her, before adding "I seem to like surprises now." He was practically jumping for the door. Clara followed him as a mother would follow her hyper son, and laughed at him, as he forgot which way the door opened. "It's pull not push," he reminded himself. Clara followed afterward and closed the door behind them.

They'd arrived on an asteroid. It seemed empty and baron, but The Doctor had hope as he began sniffing the air. "There's definitely life here," he told her. "Human, female," then he looked at her. "Oh it's you. You smell - human." He said. "Try to stop that, would ya? Giving me a headache." Clara apologised, for what, to her, seemed impossible to change; and mad of him to ask. He waved her off as he looked around him. "There," he said, pointing to ridges in the asteroid. "The Gelth are gaseous, so my guess will be that they could fit through- He hit himself in the head, repeatedly. "Why won't you work?" He asked of his brain. He walked over to the ridges though, just to make sure, before asking. "What am I doing, Clara?" Then he passed her and entered the TARDIS.

"Heaven's never real," she heard him mumbling as she finally followed him in. "Close the door, Clara. I feel a draught." She turned to the already closed door. "Thank you." He said, without even a glance in her direction. "It can't be real, can it?" He asked, before grabbing her. "Tell me it can't, tell me I'm right like always." He seemed to be begging, but his grip was angrier; as if he couldn't afford to be wrong.

"You're hurting me," Clara said. A change overcame him. She repeated herself and he released her, apologising over and over; and gripping his head and letting go just as many times. "It's okay," she told him. But he was broken.

"Perhaps this is how it'll end," he said, as he released his head from his hands. "With a rambling old man in a box."

After that, he dropped her off again. Then he went on his merry way, doing as he pleased when he pleased; with no one to tell him any different. He stopped a world war breaking out on one planet, before curing a disease with the simple application of his breath on another. He was far from a rambling old man in a box. He just had to find himself...


	4. Chapter 4

The TARDIS' engines quietened and The Doctor finally slowed down. Shields up, engine off. Then he left the console room and headed to the Zero Room. The Zero Room was not the same as he remembered; though it had been a few hundred or so years, since he had. He allowed gravity to leave his side and he began floating into, what seemed to be a sleeping position. He closed his eyes. And for the first time in a long time, the universe let him be...

She returned to the classroom the following day, with an odd little smile on her face. It was often, after trips with The Doctor, that her feelings of euphoria were elevated. The Doctor, when he was young, would've accepted that as love. But this Doctor, he wasn't about love; he was a hard-as-nails gentleman; and so he put it down to a chemical imbalance of the brain. 'How boring', one might say. But he said it. And on this day, November 11th at the 11th hour made her feel happier for remembering him.

So as the minute before the minute came, she halted class. But more than that, she told them to turn and face the window; reminding them that without them (the soldiers), things would never have been the same. She was rather selfish though, as as she said 'them', in her mind she thought of 'him': her 'him', not 'him' she was saddled with now; before the silence passed and she remembered that her 'him' was 'him'. _Why do I keep doing this to myself?_ She asked herself; _Why do I keep doing this to him._..

He burst into the room, proudly, as though he'd been summoned by some supernatural force; which he'd eventually deduce to be merely highly advanced science. "Sorry," was all he could say before he collapsed on himself. He got up slowly, surveying the room. Then he stood upright and proper. "Clara," he said, calmer now. "May I have a word with you?" At this, Clara turned red and after setting the class on a task, she followed him out.

"Sorry," he said again. "I couldn't wait!" He sounded excited, and more childlike than ever.

"What's happened?"

"Heaven!" He said. "It does exist. Or at least I think it does." Then he calmed down. "Now you might want to get back in there, I think one of your students is drawing - yep, he drew it - although, is that really necessary?" She turned to see what the boy was drawing and headed back in. A series of shouts and laughter left the room. "Stupid apes," The Doctor laughed to himself. "Gotta love 'em."

She met him at the same church, where the last time she'd witnessed what she could only describe, as a mental breakdown. But here before her now, a mentally stable man stood before her; calmly going through things with her. "It's a ship!" He said. "Or it could be an asteroid - I don't know - but it's a hub of some kind, where the souls are kept in a statis-like environment." She smiled at him-

"So are we going?" She asked. He shrugged, before smiling.

"Of course we are," he said. "C'mon."

The TARDIS shot off again. "I've worked out," he said. "That this place will be time-sensitive - so, say we went tomorrow - there'd be more bodies than today, because they haven't died yet. We might see Elvis!" He said. "I taught 'im to play guitar," he laughed. "Now for this to work," he said, placing a metal head-shaped harness on Clara's head. "I need you to think of whatever you think would be heaven." She nodded and then he threw a lever and the TARDIS spun out of control. The console sparked as the TARDIS tried to travel. "Keep thinking, Clara." He said. And she did. It took a hell of a lot of power, but they made it...


	5. Chapter 5

It was a dark building situated on an asteroid. There was no light coming from it, and there was no sign of life. The Doctor waved his screwdriver in the building's general direction, but that too confirmed that no life was present. "Let's go." He said. Clara followed, reminding him of the door. So he pulled out an old trick and clicked and the doors shut. Then they moved on.

They entered the building and moved slowly through it. Things appeared and disappeared; like in the entrance, there was a reception desk which dissolved as they turned their backs. The Doctor was scared, but she felt safe around him. They stood alongside one another even then. Then they found out why the building was so dark...

The next room they entered was, what The Doctor described, as a True Room: a room which is truly what it appears; as opposed to what the entrance was; which, he assumed, took the form of whatever the envisioner wanted to see. This True Room, took the form of a warehouse-like interior. The room was used for storage, but as they got closer, they realised that it wasn't a warehouse at all. In fact, what they were truly witnessing; were countless bodies of the deceased, stored on shelves like produce; and attached to what seemed to be, oxygen masks of some kind. He waved his sonic around this room, still no sign of life; but there was an electronic presence, which identified with the word 'Missy'. He activated her. The avatar which activated was old, much like The Doctor was; and identified him as 'Boyfriend'. He denied this, but the conversation continued. "I am Missy; I am the keeper of the Dead; and this is The Promised Land." She said. Clara almost laughed too hard. The avatar turned to her. "Identification: Duplicates found." Clara wondered what she meant, and The Doctor explained about her past lives; which had turned to deaths; were confusing the avatar. "I don't want you to be alone, boyfriend," Missy said. "When you die, I will be beside you; as I am with all of the deceased; but I will be closer with you. I'll be the one you love, and I'll never leave you." She said. That stung Clara a little, though she pretended not to care.

"I told you," The Doctor said, with a smile.

"Told me what?" Clara asked.

"Heaven's not real. This is something that was built as something to keep people alive, even _after_ death. A sort of universal aspiration to this false thing, if you will." Then he turned to the Avatar. "What is your purpose?"

"My purpose is to watch over the dead, Doctor. As I will watch over you one day. You are getting old," she said. "Even the human thinks so." Clara hung her head.

"Watch over them? Why?" He asked.

"We could raise them," Missy replied.

"What?" The Doctor asked.

"You have enough regeneration energy," Missy told him. "To give a single spark to all of these, bring them back to life; and still survive 11 more times." The Doctor looked at her and then at Clara.

"C'mon, Clara." He said. "We're not staying."

Clara asked him later on, why he'd not saved them; and he explained to her, that that was what Heaven's purpose was. It was designed to hold the consciousnesses in what appeared like digitised versions of themselves. "They're not really real." He said. "It's like a tourist attraction, say you're something exciting and different. You'll have everyone 'round."

"You're lying," she said. "And why'd she identify you as boyfriend?"

"Perhaps she was a girlfriend," he said, avoiding admitting that he lied. "I think this is too much, even for me." He said. "Perhaps it's time to stop running, eh?" He said, then they set off...


End file.
